


you may be good-looking (yeah but you're not a piece of art)

by relcutantlyback (AzaWhite)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, Sad, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, for most of it at least, inspired by the 'Ice Adolescence' poster, it's VERY vague tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzaWhite/pseuds/relcutantlyback
Summary: Victor Nikiforov cuts his hair for the first time, and of course, there's a reason.





	you may be good-looking (yeah but you're not a piece of art)

**Author's Note:**

> A quick something before diving too deeply into another project (or three, or ten).  
> Title inspired by "Power and Control" by Marina and the Diamonds.

Makkachin, tail wagging happily, dashed towards the fragile border between shore and frozen sea. The cold didn’t seem to bother her, not the way it bit at Victor’s exposed ears and stung his eyes. His teeth chattered slightly as he peeled back his scarf and stuffed in a pocket. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of this occasion because his scarf was blown into his face and clouded his vision. He dug into another pocket and pulled out a pair of shears.

 

_ You’re such a pretty little thing, hmm? Just stay quiet, and we can...get to know each other a little better, shall we? _

 

His gloved fingers fumbled with the smooth metal for several minutes until he gave up and placed the shears back into their pocket. After a brief moment’s hesitation, he ripped off his gloves, freezing air crawling up his sleeves from the gap they left. He struggled to gather his windswept hair into a low ponytail, tying it off with an elastic. The task was much more difficult than usual, numbness settling into his fingers.

 

_ Tell your coach? What that crusty old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I think we’re much better off having our fun uninterrupted. _

 

Victor pulled out the shears again, exclaiming loudly at the shock of icy-cold metal that somehow managed to pierce through the bitter chill. Makka turned back to look at him, the motion barely discernible at such a distance. She apparently determined her human was in no real danger ( _ oh the betrayal! _ Victor managed to think) as she turned back to chasing snow flurries near the shore. A brief glance at his blue fingertips informed him that he was starting to flirt with hypothermia.

 

_ Ahh, that’s it. You know, I really like your hair, Victor. It’s so long and thick, and it coils so nicely around my hand. And what a truly unique color! _

 

The wind violently whipped his ponytail around his head and he struggled to get a good grip of the base. When he finally managed a solid right-handed hold, he shakily switched hands and raised the shears high, high, high. Victor smiled and snipped the ponytail off in one clean motion. The hand holding his locks bobbed in the air with the sudden weight at the same time his head jerked with weightlessness. The shears were stored back in their pocket, the elastic wrestled off the ponytail, and the strands of hair that had once stretched from head to waist scattered across the Baltic Sea thanks to brisk winds.

 

_ I almost wouldn’t believe the carpet matches the drapes, if I hadn’t seen the proof of it myself. But I’m getting distracted. Victor, as long as you keep your hair nice and long, as long as we have these little...moments to ourselves, I promise you’ll never want for sponsorship deals. _

 

Victor pulled his gloves back on, rewrapped his scarf, whistled for Makkachin, and left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like this, please drop some kudos and/or a comment.


End file.
